Automail Collective
by Mukky
Summary: [3 of 100] Edward never thought Strip Poker would work against him! Will he find a way to escape Roy's hungry gaze, or shall he be the laughing stock of Headquarters? [RoyxEd]
1. RoyxEd: Truly Madly Deeply

**Author's Note(s)**: Welcome to the incomplete collection of 100 drabbles of Fullmetal Alchemist - formally titled 'Automail Collective.' Pretty swank, if I do say so myself.

First and fore-most, I likely ought to define what types of drabbles can be found here: In generally, a drabble is thought to be of 500 words or less, but I've decided to take this from a different approach. Rather, for each story, I'll ask a certain individual for a word limit that I am to meet - specifically, not generally. And one way or another, I shall meet that limit. Nifty challenge, no?

Future questions and the like will be answered at the beginning in each author's note. And each fic will be titled based on, oh, the song that likely most inspired me to write the aforementioned text. Believe me, I'm easily inspired. On with the show!

**This particular story is**: 1020 words, Roy x Ed. Provided by Tia.

**Disclaimer**: Afore-noticed, I don't own FMA in any shape or form, nor do I have any particular ownership over the characters. Alas.

* * *

He could hear it. The soft pitter-patter as the rain beat against the concrete, drumming a wild rhythm to a dance he dare not step. Figure bent against the sanction of a neglected fence, the youth wrapped his arms around his knees, and buried his face into the provided flat of his lap. Rivulets trailed through his blonde locks, the young alchemist's tendrils astray from a panicked dash.

But it seemed entirely senseless now. Living in a utter loss.

Gradually, Edward bid his head against the stone tablet against his back, his gaze roaming the weeping heavens as he milked his mind of thought. But even to the pitied caress of the rain, he could not detain himself from complete sorrow; Thus, he melted back into the shadowed shelter of his memories, drowning within the few moments that remained of a lost friend. A lone, little girl, tortured by the cruelty of her father.

She had been within arm's reach, right beneath his nose and yet she had endured torment in the final moments of her father's detested glory. Ripped from the world, thrown into another, forced to live the life of a beast, a blasphemous creature not meant to breathe the clean, fresh air. And yet it had ended within a matter of mere seconds, crazed moments of a barbarian as he raped her of a life of pain and misery. Painted on the wall, her blood had trailed crimson into the wash of a evening drizzle, staining the cool cobblestones with what had been, but could never be.

"I... Could have saved her," he murmured to himself, brow knitting as an ache tore through his chest, causing the boy of fifteen summers to choke on a sob. Tears engraved upon his cheeks, damp digits burrowed into the familiar touch of his broken frame, and he sacrificed another moment of his time to allow his eternal anguish reign free. Hope had been blind to the child's life, her fate completely ignored by the mercy of all living.

A figure stood near, quiet in their resolve as they observed the boy's continuous reaction to the strain of death. They held a stressed silence, hands lost within the cavities of their pockets, an obvious desire to reach forward toward the tormented youth but kept their range all the more. Successively, Edward's attention roamed, gathering upon the nearby male, his features darkening instinctively. Even in his misery, he was not meant to be alone.

"Is there something that you want?" the blonde began, tone unintentionally bitter, but naturally defensive. "Because if you're here to make fun of me, I don't need-"

"I'm not going to make fun of you, Fullmetal." Roy Mustang stepped forward from his refuge, eyes flickering briefly toward the gloomy skies. "It seems you aren't the only one to mourn Nina Tucker's death." Casting the boy a side-long glance, the elder male released a series of held tension, his shoulders drooping to a near sulk as he searched the puddled walk for means of explanation. And as he slipped into a prolonged silence, Edward's eyes bore into him, daggers of absolute malice intended for another. But anger never chose favorites.

Finally, he retreated with deliberate hesitation to join the child prodigy where he sat, merely looming over the boy's dimpled figure. Hence, allowing another instant to steal by, he dropped his gaze to the alchemist's soaked figure, a pitied smile lighting his lips. Their relationship with the other had always been starved, but even now, the Colonel could not find particular reason of compassion to comfort the child.

"You're to catch a cold if you continue this behavior, Fullmetal," he remarked in a pitch best saved for scolding. "And you'll be of no use to us sick in bed-"

"Just leave me alone," Edward interrupted, burrowing his face once again between his arms. A heartbeat past as Roy regarded him in a lighter respect before he came to crouch at his side, a hand briefly levitated to gather the wounded figure closer. But after a moment of debate, he let it fall, his expression set with equal determination to battle Edward's own stubbornness.

"How will your brooding help Nina?" Roy finally asked, a frown touching his lips. "You could put this energy to better use."

"What the fuck do you know, you half-baked, rotten, sonofabitch!" Slamming his palms against the granite floor, Edward cast a dirty scowl at the adjacent male, face suffocated with breaths of detest. "I doubt you'd bat even an eye if anyone in your jurisdiction died!"

"That isn't true!" A sudden hush fell between the two as the blonde regarded the older male with a hint of surprise, oblivious to the foreign track of emotion cultivating his features. "I'd first see myself dead before I allowed anyone, and I do mean absolutely _anyone_, die beneath my control. That includes even you, Fullmetal."

The blonde considered his company's words as he settled back against the wall, his angered gaze hopscotching with the pleasant drill of the rain from stone to stone.

"I could have saved her," he repeated in a crack of affliction. "Somehow, we could have found a way to save her..."

"We're not God. Alchemy is a science deplored entirely by equivalent exchange. Or have you forgotten that, Fullmetal? What could you have exchanged for her life?"

"We could have found a way! Anything! Somehow, we could have saved her-"

"Then find a way." Standing in a grace of fluid motion, the Colonel removed his jacket with idle patience. "Find a way to save others like her, before they suffer the same fate. Or would you rather sit here whining?" Casting him a moment of regard, Roy dropped his jacket around the boy's shoulders and flicked his hand in leave.

"Report back to Headquarters." Watching his departure, Edward sighed and drew the jacket around him with a paled grin.

"At least I'm not useless in the rain..."

* * *

There you go. First drabble: Complete. Ah... Much harder to meet a limit than I thought it'd be. But I enjoy a challenge! Hope you peeps enjoyed it. 


	2. HughesxRoy: Until it Sleeps

**Author's Note(s)**: To answer _LilAngel12558_'s question: Either works. I may ask a friend, or I may take certain requests from reviewers. If it's a reviewer providing the number count, then I'd also like a specific coupling (maybe not from the same reviewer! Oh, snap!) so I don't spend a good deal of my time, wandering about messenger, bombarding my friends with, "GIVEMEAFMACOUPLING!" message. Though I may do that just for personal kicks, haha. 814 words it'll be.

**This particular story** **is**: 1182 words, Hughes x Roy. Once more provided by Tia.

**Disclaimer**: Afore-noticed, I don't own FMA in any shape or form, nor do I have any particular ownership over the characters. Alas.

* * *

The demons had returned.

Roy Mustang. A soldier fresh from the bakery of the military, as chaste to death as the young Elric brothers. His mission: to remove all forms and figures of resistance, with or without casualties. What was another death to the government anyway? They were mere pawns, after all, struggling against the uprising of a powerful force that would better the world in different means. Who were these toys to try to decide otherwise?

A dog to the military. Struggling through the ruins and bare bones of buildings, he came across a lone figure, trembling in utter terror as a pup discovered his refuge. Regarding the seated fellow, Roy made no slip of action, simply observing the male's strike of horror as he cowered and quaked to the breath of death provided before him. Then, without warning, he lifted a rifle with careful aim, though his hands quivered and shook, preventing what would be an accurate shot.

Butpanic reflected from the Alchemist's eyes as his hand lifted defensively, ready to produce a lethal flame that would consume his opponent. Wordless, senseless creation, they gaped at one another, waiting, stalling...

Then a scream! Roy's voice echoed to the man's as warmth engulfed the cramped room, his gaze wide with shock as the fire raped his saboteur, his voice pitched with shrieks of absolute pain and eternal misery. Yet Roy could not release his alarm as he joined the chorus, his entire figure a series of trembling though the crime had been completed. Thus, he watched in agonized awe as flesh pealed from bone, melting into miniscule flakes, exposing the layers of raw muscle beneath before eating through. Nothing could cease the process now; He was dying.

Abruptly, through the blaze, two hands twisted a grasp around Roy's levitated wrist, burning, seething, tearing into his flawless skin as a skeletal grin beamed up at him.

"You killed me..." it seethed, a tongue raking along the rows of jagged teeth, pulling Roy near. "You killed me!" The alchemist produced another howl as he struggled, batting a hand against the flat forehead of the skull. But nothing would liberate the dying man's grip as he strangled bone for pain, despite his murderer's opposition. Jaws opening wide, his hands crept up the length of Roy's arm, gripping his shoulders as he pulled the male from his feet. Closer, and closer yet his mouth drew near, projecting breaths of rancid breath, teeth gashing, mashing, prepared to tear and rip meat.

"You killed me as I'm going to kill you--!"

Roy woke with a start, nearly tumbling from his chair as his figure vibrated against the wooden structure. Instinctively, he glanced wearily about, surprised and yet bemused to discover himself in his office, fortunately alone. Cold beads of sweat dotted his face, and after brief hesitation, he mopped his forehead and dropped his visage into the expanse of his hands.

A dream; Nay, a nightmare. A terrible, endless nightmare that still plagued him no matter what he did. It had gradually escalated, first from the mere cries of the male now to what appeared to be the living dead. Did he, Roy Mustang, honestly fear his for-longed victim would return in death and misery to see him through?

"Maybe... I'm going crazy," he murmured as he closed his eyes with a slight sigh.

"Afraid not. You've always been a touch crazy," a voice protested as the familiar grace of his door idling closed roused his attention. Glancing from his temporary sanctuary, he briefly regarded Maes Hughes as he provided Roy with an equal look. Then a slight grin touching his lips, the subordinate wandered forward and leaned against the desk. "You look as though you've seen a ghost, chief."

"Hughes, haven't you heard of knocking?" Roy inquired with a failed hike of his eyebrow, the male making an obvious attempt to clean himself of what anguish previously plagued him.

"If I had knocked, I wouldn't have been able to catch you all dewy-eyed," Hughes retorted with a smug smile, enlightening his features considerably. Roy's gaze narrowed in slight before he turned away from him, attention deliberately averted. Flecks of white rained from the sky, the heavens pregnant with a promised snow-fall. Before morning, the ground would be suffocated in a landscape of white.

"Nonsense, I was not--" Hughes hand suddenly caught beneath Roy's chin, the male dangerously close. He had rounded about the desk to join his superior officer in absent resolve to the awaiting scenery, but could hardly stand the glance of misery that still hinted at the alchemist's face.

"I may not be Riza, but it's okay to cry," he murmured quietly, smile vacant from his expression. A moment of silence was exchanged between the two before Roy once again redirected his attention, unable to maintain eye contact with his company.

"I don't need to cry, Maes." Yet the words had hardly left his mouth as a foreign caress of lips touched his own, Hughes' hand briefly lost within the luscious, onyx tendrils. Then deliberating further action, the doting father left it at that, merely pressing his forehead against his companion's in a weak attempt to sooth his worry.

"Then don't look like you need to cry, chief," he remarked in a hushed tone, then bent to steal another kiss. Unfortunately, interruption inevitable, a series of angered jeers erupted from the awaiting corridor, and Hughes chanced a glance toward the door as he straightened with a slight sigh. Shame, he had forgotten why he had come into Roy's office in the first place.

"Ed's demanding to talk to you," he explained in brief as a hand combed through his hair, then idly scratched at his throat. "He's been raving ever since he came back from the station. Something about a no-good, rotten, skirt-chasing Colonel." A heartbeat skipped for an instant as Roy gave it debate before he turned back to his window with a knit of his eyebrows.

"I don't want to see Fullmetal--"

"Would you rather look at more pictures of my darling, baby Elysia?" Hughes asked rather selectively as he extracted a said picture from his jacket. "Oh, my beautiful, bouncing angel! I just can't get over how cute-"

"Fullmetal it is!" Leaving no opportunity to be further exposed to Hughes and his daughter-complex, Roy made for the door and disappeared into theconvenient hallway beyond. Without delay, Edward's voice immediately rose in questionably anger, providing Hughes with a moment of entertainment as he cast a glance to the photo.

"Just give it time, chief... You'll heal," he murmured to the sleep-captivated Colonel portrayed in the image, oblivious to a lingering admirer who had captured the moment for eternity. Thus, tucking it away for safe-keeping, Hughes retreated into the corridor, wanting nothing more than to observe what would be another classic conflict between the Alchemists.

* * *

And another one bites the dust.


	3. RoyxEd: Cherry Cola

**Author's Note(s)**: I suppose people don't favor a HughesxRoy pairing? Hrm.. Funny how the word count differs in document manager than it does from my word-counting source. Ah well.

Thank you, writerauthorguy, for the correction; the source I had used had been incorrect.

**This particular story is**: 500 words, Roy x Ed. Provided by Vulgar.

* * *

Delicate fingertips traced an adolescent chin, prodding, thoughtful, hopeful. Edward cast a pity of a glance toward the older male, hardly amused by this reflection of antics, but said nothing to the steep blush that had smothered his expression for the last few hours of his evening.

"Just hurry up with the game," he sneered with a hint of absolute despair, shooting a dark glance toward the locked door of Roy's office. Stripped to the clean fancy of his boxers, young Edward Elric, the respected child prodigy of Resembool, was losing miserably to a consecutive game of Strip Poker. If this had been against Al, he'd have cheated his way with a flawless escape... But then, he wouldn't have necessarily encouraged a game of Strip Poker, either.

"Are you sure, Fullmetal?" Roy teased with a slight wave of his cards, gaze exclusively too hunger for Edward's comfort. Shifting in slight away from the table, the boy averted his eyes in a nonchalant action and bid the game's onward movement with an idle wave of his hand.

"Stop stalling already," he grumbled, expression touched by minor evidence of a pout. He didn't know what was on the Flame Alchemist's agenda, but he realized he wouldn't much care for it. Roy simply chuckled, entirely too amused by his company's distraught reactions, and leaned forward, he hand creeping to brush aside the younger male's. Instinctively, Edward jumped and immediately recoiled, then rubbed the taintless flesh as though he'd been bitten by an imagined fiend.

"Stop touching me! Just lay your damn hand down, you dirty, promotion-whoring Colonel!" he snapped, only additionally infuriated as Roy laughed feebly. It was difficult to keep his mind on the game with the boy appearing so utterly helpless, passively triggered by the slightest motion against his obvious fear of sexuality. But he supposed the game couldn't continue much longer, he fully clothed, his companion hardly.

"As you wish, Fullmetal," he replied with a heavy mock of a sigh, no doubt playing his part as a hopeful, but sexually frustrated young man. Taking the bait, Edward's brow sympathetically dipped as he could only shake his head, containing no means of comfort to give to his superior officer.

"Four of a kind," the young blonde muttered as he laid down his hand, appearing rather triumphant; Surely, Roy's luck couldn't last this long. Eventually, he'd have to get a bad hand, and finally Edward would be saved.

"Royal flush."

"WHAT!" Jumping from his seat, Edward's palms hit the table with a heavy thud. "There's absolutely no way! You had to cheat! You can't get that same hand every damn time!"

"Your boxers, Fullmetal." Shaking his head in absolute disobedience, the child's blush increased two fold as he bolted out the door. Silent for a moment, Roy sighed.

"Poor sport," he murmured quietly, and glanced at his straight. Ah, oh well.

* * *

Short... R&R and the like. 


End file.
